Jack's Last Thoughts
by shamrock920
Summary: TCOR, when Jack sees Riddick 'dead' on the runway and Jack after being converted. Different oneshot not related to the others. Angstish.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Note: This is a different one-shot from all the others I have been writing.

**Jack's Last Thoughts**

His form was unmoving as the cruel dawn was breaking onto the even more merciless planet. Twisted in a way that shouldn't be, eyes closed as they should not be and still in a way that she never wanted to see.

_No._

She could not bear the thought of him gone. It simply could not be happening. This reality was a nightmare, she was going to wake up or when she turned around, he would be standing above her, looking down and holding out his hand to her. She looked.

_No. _

He had not moved. As she leaned against the warming rock, she was hit with an emotional and mental blast harder than the oncoming blaze. He was mortal. But no, it couldn't be, not him. She couldn't even begin to accept it.

_In life and death, he will never leave me. _

How sentimental. It was only a cover for knowing that her savior of more then one time and her imagined god was indeed mortal. She bit back the tears, she had not come this far to watch him dead and then weakly collapse and let the fiery dawn take her.

_Survive. He would have wanted that._

Turning back at the ship that she hated already, Jack stood. She could survive perhaps even escape their strange customs at some point in the future.

_Is it worth it without him?_

She shook her head as she descended the sandy hill. She would survive, but without the spirit. Glancing at his form one last time, she knew that her animal had died with him. She was standing still for a moment when she felt, saw and heard in her mind's eye a strong and lithe beast mournfully howl at the blazing sky over the loss of a loved one. Clenching her eyes shut and fisting her hands, Jack walked away, trying to shake off the pain, but she knew it was useless. They had died together.

_Find the peace you could not seek out here. _

"M'lord, I have to admit I have never seen one like this," a worker bowed deeply to Lord Marshal.

"You have permission to continue." He waved his hand and the man continued to speak.

"Is it possible to be dead before being changed?" He asked and the Lord Marshal sharply glanced up. A challenge to his power of the underverse? His reign? What was this?

"Explain." He ordered.

"When she was brought to us, there was nothing there. No fighting determination, no dying last hopes. It was as if she resigned to a fate she did not know of." He gestured vaguely with his hands.

"Where is she now?" He asked and a form moved from the shadows.

_Interesting,_ he mused. He had not even sensed her. As he looked her over he was caught by the glassy eyes that showed a distinct hopelessness, helplessness and loneliness.

"Speak." He commanded.

"M'lord, she has had nothing to say, but…do you have something purely silver?" He asked timidly.

"Why do you request this?" He sharply asked.

"You will understand." He bowed as the Lord Marshal drew out a hidden dagger, completely silver. It was something that did not match the rest of the tarnished silver type of weaponry and armor he used. "Watch her, m'lord."

The worker held out the silver dagger to her and the change was immediate.

_What was her life before this? _He wondered. Just from the glassed look in her eyes he had doubted there was anything beneath it. Nothing that could be unlocked, for sure.

She moved her head and reached out, tentatively, and her hand began to shake, her lip tremble and the most surprising, tears gracefully fell from her eyes.

_Pools of sorrow and pain, _he thought. _Take it_.

As if she had heard him, she reached her pale hand over the blade and removed it from the worker's open hand. Her scarred fingers curled around the hilt, as if familiar with the weapon. She held it in her hand, her tears still falling.

_What memory could a silver blade spark? _He thought to himself, watching her closely. But she seemed to be in a world of her own.

He stood from his throne and slowly walked down the steps, expecting her to scare and run away. But she did none of this, only continued to silently cry, her shaking body simply shuddering with every deep breath she took.

_Look at me. _

She tore her gaze from the blade and looked up at him. His body stiffened at what he saw in her eyes.

_This life was not meant for you,_ he thought, almost sadly, as he ordered the worker to take her away. He shook his head when the question of the dagger came up, he knew she would do better if she could keep it. It was a link to her past life, something he never wanted his converts to have, but he knew inwardly that someone already as dead as she had no trip to make to the underverse. The only thing that remained was her physical body passing on.

She walked away in silence, her head bowed. The tears were slower, but still sliding down her cold, pale cheeks. At the door she stopped and turned, locking eyes with him again. But what he had seen just seconds ago was gone and he wondered if he would ever see it again.

When she had looked at him, something had swirled in those gray depths. It was a spirit dredged up from something so lost its existence should not have been possible. A distinct blaze of green, something that had totaled his known world; there was no colour in his world and that sharp fiery streak of green had shocked him for a moment.

But it was gone.

END.


End file.
